


all my wounds turned into gold

by Misprinting (misprinting)



Category: Magic Mike (2012)
Genre: F/M, Kid!Fic, M/M, Post-Film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:44:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misprinting/pseuds/Misprinting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike ends up with a baby. He has no idea how he got to this place in his life, but he knows that the last person he wants help from is Adam. Adam has a debt to pay back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all my wounds turned into gold

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to digitalviolets for the beta. You're flawless!

“Is that a baby?” Brooke asks. “That’s a baby.”

Mike nods. It’s his baby. She is. She’s his baby.

“Does she have a name?” Brooke asks. As though the other questions can wait. Which they can’t, really, because what is Mike going to do with a baby?

“I don’t know,” He says. Her head is so soft. She doesn’t seem to mind being held by him, his hand cupped at the back of her head making her look tiny. Tinier. “Uhm, her mom asked me to name her, I guess,” He says. He shakes his head.

“Well, okay,” Brooke says. Speechless, Mike assumes. Yep, him too. “Okay, well. Better- You’d better give her a pretty name. A beautiful one. I mean, you... you can’t...” She trails off. But.

He looks at Brooke and then back at his baby. She is a beautiful one, yeah. So tiny. “Yeah,” He says. “I maybe can do that.”

~

Adam isn’t who he’s expecting to turn up on his doorstep.

“Adam, dude, what-” He starts, but Adam smiles at him with his eyes, looking hopefully up at him through his lashes, says, “hey, Mike,” and doesn’t walk right in, making it easier to let him in (like it’d be possible not to). He just has to step back out of the way with a sigh, rub the back of his neck, not make eye contact. No words needed. Easy.

“Here she is,” Adam says. Like Mike with a baby is how it’s meant to be. He leans over her, smiles bright but he doesn’t touch her.

“Yep,” Mike says, “Here she is.” The pretending it’s normal thing, that’s what he hates. Adam stays leaning over her and smiling.

“Hey, baby,” He says, and he stills. He’s realised he doesn’t know what else to say. What do you say to a baby? Mike has no idea, either.

“You’re, um...” Mike’s trying to ask what Adam’s doing here, he just can’t figure out how he’s going to do that. He wants to know when Adam’s going to leave so he can count it. Adam acts like Mike hasn’t said anything. Which, yeah, okay. Point.

“She’s quite a cute one, really,” Adam says.

“She’s fucking gorgeous,” Mike tells him, surprising himself, getting angry. Adam raises an eyebrow at him, his smile already a smirk.

“Yeah, man, course,” He says, “She’s a beauty. Want some help with her?”

 _Not from you,_ Mike nearly says. He nearly tells him to jump off a cliff. Not that long ago he’d thought if he said it, Adam’d do it. But not long ago he’d also been a thirty year old a male stripper with a shitty credit rating. Now he’s just a thirty thirty year old single dad whose credit rating is just getting shittier.

“Spoken to your sister?” He asks instead. He gives in to the urge to pick his baby up, cradling her in the dip of his elbow as she keeps blinking sleepily. She doesn’t wriggle at all, comfortable just to be held.

Adam opens his arms in appeal. “She threw me out,” He says.

Mike points to the door. Adam slams it on the way out and Mike hears him cursing on the other side, but he doesn’t try to apologise for making Mike’s baby cry.

~

Adam comes back.

“I spoke to her,” He says, “She told me to fuck myself.”

“I don’t believe you. That’s what she should have said, though.” Mike sighs. “Go try again.”

He shuts the door in Adam’s face.

~

“Are you gonna make me sleep in my car?” Adam asks, the third time he comes back. It’s ten at night, dark, and the baby’s asleep. Mike wants to be, too.

“Go to a motel,” He says, but he steps back from his door, and then he leaves Adam standing in the hallway. Adam knows where the guest bedroom is.

Mike goes to bed.

~

4am, Mike thinks about waking Adam up, making him take over. She won’t shut up. He puts her down in her crib and fills a glass of water. He’s going to throw it at Adam and make him help if that’s what he’s here for.

And just like that, she hiccups. She’s so confused she stops crying. It’s a fucking miracle.

7am, Adam picks her up out of Mike’s arms, crying again, and takes her out with him. Mike’s too tired to care where he’s taking her until he hears a car start, and then he starts to freak the fuck out. Except he gets hold of his phone and is so tired he can’t figure out who to ring or what to do, so he just holds onto it.

Adam brings coffee back. And donuts for breakfast. Adam drinks both the coffees and Mike holds his baby while he eats three of the donuts, and then very calmly (very shakily) informs Adam that he is never to take his baby into his car again. He gets to sleep until one.

~

“Talk to Brooke,” Mike occasionally says. Adam’s been there a week (and it’s been Mike, the baby, Adam, no one else, for a week) before he does. He comes back with a face like he wants to kick something until it buckles, so Mike shuts the door on it. He’s back a few hours later, lets himself in, and sits on the floor with the baby cradled in his crossed legs in front of SNL.

“She’s not letting me back,” He says.

“Good for her.”

Adam twists to glare at him. Mike shrugs.

“Fuck off,” Adam says, turning back to the TV. His fingers are gentle on the crown of the baby’s head.

“You fuck off,” Mike says. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

~

Mike doesn’t want to hear what happened in Miami, so he doesn’t ask. He sleeps whenever Adam helps, and when Adam doesn’t he’s with the baby. He worries about money, so he lets Adam buy diapers. Formula. Talc. Milk, bread, and the occasional bear. He wonders if the problem’s still drugs, but he doesn’t look for the evidence.

He hears what happened in Miami from Ken.

“Nothing,” Ken says, surprised by the question. “He took a holiday. No earnings, but he’s good for that. Fortnight, I think he said.”

“Right,” Mike says. He writes a list for next time Adam goes out to the store: steak, Bud, rice pudding, some fucking good cheese, chips. He puts it under Adam’s keys and sneaks it back out the next time he walks past. He crumbles it and bins it.

~

He asks Hannah, - Hannah, his daughter Hannah. His baby, Hannah. He still hasn’t called her anything but baby out loud yet. - but the question’s for Adam. 

“I’m here because you’ve got a baby,” Adam tells him. He’s smirking, he’s got his arms folded. Mike ignores him until he carries on. “And I owe you, man.”

Mike can’t throw a punch because he’s holding Hannah, and he can’t shout because he doesn’t want her to cry. He turns his back on Adam and says, “Yeah, and I’ve got a kid now. You _owe_ me.”

Mike drops his nose to Hannah’s hair as he hears Adam leave. He comes back a minute later.

“I’ll give you every cent.” He says, “I said once before.”

Mike nods. Adam leaves. Again, he comes back, and he takes Hannah and pushes Mike towards his bedroom by the shoulder. Mike goes.

~

Brooke turns up, hands Mike a sandwich, (homemade, ham and mustard; he could kiss her) and says, “I’m here to take my stupid little brother for lunch.”

“He’s asleep,” Mike says.

“It’s one,” She has her hip cocked, her arms folded, one shoulder held higher than the other, and her jawline is taught. 

“He only got to bed at four,” Mike says, but he turns around and says, “Fuck it,” goes into Adam’s room and shakes him awake. “Brooke’s here. Get dressed,” He says. Adam rolls over blinks at him, pulls a face. He lifts his hands to his eyes and rubs them and then holds his head in his hands, eyes still closed, and groans. Mike shoves him. “Get up.”

“‘Kay, fuck ‘ff.”

Mike does. He wants to give the baby a bath.

~

Brooke brings Adam back and stays for dinner. They order in, get pizza, and they take turns holding Hannah. Brooke even smiles when Adam’s holding her.

“Named her yet?” She asks, bouncing her to make her giggle.

Mike shrugs. “Maybe,” He says.

“Yeah?” Brooke raises an eyebrow and half a smile, waiting.

“Hannah,” Mike says. Brooke smiles and holds Hannah up to look at her closely.

“Yep, that’s good, I like that,” She says, “Hey, Hannah Lane.” Hannah looks away, at something else that’s caught her attention. Brooke smiles wider.

“When’d you decide that?” Adam asks, his amiable smile on full wattage, though he’s got a little tomato puree on his top lip. Mike shrugs. “It’s a good name,” Adam says.

“It is, yeah, I know,” Mike says, taking Hannah back from Brooke and cradling her so he can smell her hair.

~

Adam goes out for food and Mike lies on the floor next to Hannah where she’s kicking the sky and giggling, lying on her blanket. He holds his hand up so she can kick that and her giggles go all high and delighted. Mike smiles so hard his eyes water.

~

“You just had the fortnight off, right?”

Adam looks surprised for just a second, hiding it quickly and nodding. 

“So are you heading off tonight or tomorrow?” Mike asks. He’s measuring out formula while Hannah’s asleep, ready for whenever she wants it. Adam’s leaning against the counter watching. Their lives are baby, baby, and more baby, and when she’s asleep and there’s no reason for either of them to be there they get to be a little like loose threads.

“Dunno,” Adam shrugs. “Tomorrow? I’ll have to pack.” He drums his fingers on the counter. “Could head back early on Thursday, still make it for half of practice.”

“Okay, whatever,” Mike agrees, “Go pack now if you want.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” Adam pushes off from the counter, tapping Mike’s hip on the way past, and goes to his room.

Only Hannah wakes up, it’s Adam’s turn, and he doesn’t get a chance to pack that night.

~

Brooke brings them both sandwiches on her way to work on Thursday morning. Ham and mustard for Mike, cheese and ham for Adam. She kisses Adam’s cheek and tells Mike she’ll come around after work.

“Got everything?” Mike asks. Adam nods.

“Just gonna say goodbye to Han.”

Mike goes to say _wake her and I’ll kill you_ but decides he doesn’t care if Adam wakes her or not, it doesn’t matter. Maybe he wants his daughter to get a goodbye, too. Mike puts his sandwich in the fridge, grabs a soda and a packet of chips and puts them next to Adam’s sandwich on the counter. He pours himself a bowl of cereal though he’s not really hungry.

“Okay,” Adam says, mouth twisting into a shape that’s trying not to be a frown.

“Here,” Mike nudges Adam’s lunch across the counter half an inch. Adam steps in as he picks it up, shoulders the only bag he’d arrived with, and steps back again. He’s at the door when Mike says, “Thanks.”

Adam turns and grins. “Yeah, sure, it’s good,” He says, waves around the soda in his hand and shuts the door behind him.

Mike stays standing against the counter. Slowly, he slumps.

The door opens again and Mike looks up, frowning, as Adam walks in, walks right up to him, leans against the counter behind Mike with one arm, pushing Mike back into it, taking hold of his shirt and kissing him.

“What,” Adam says, pulling Mike back in for another kiss, pushing him back again to say “The fuck does it _take?_ ” He licks his lips furiously, glares at Mike’s mouth, shoves at his thigh with his knee mostly just to shove.

Mike shrugs, takes a good firm hold of Adam’s hip, and kisses him back. Adam tries to pull at his hair and Mike has to stop this; Adam has to go.

“You have to go,” Mike says. Adam shoves him in the centre of his chest.

“Fuck. You.” He says.

“You’re coming _back_ ,” Mike says, shoving Adam’s hip in return. “Fuck’s sake. You need to go to work or Dallas’ll fire you.”

Adam pulls at his own hair, staring at Mike, breathing raggedly. “And I owe you? So I better be earning?” Adam asks, half smiling.

“Yes, you fucking do,” He says, “But shut up, that’s not why. Will you fuck off already?”

“Alright!” Adam’s grinning as he backs up, hands in the air, and Mike still has to bodily spin him around and push him outside.

He kisses him through the open car window, but he does not watch him drive away.

~

Mike sits with Hannah on the floor next to her crib. He sketches for a bit. The shelving he’s been meaning to make for months now; a vague idea for a coffee table, though he doesn’t have a feature piece for it yet. A bit more fanciful, he sketches a dollhouse he might make Hannah in a year or so.

Then he takes a fresh sheet, sketching out the crib he’d have liked to have made her, if he’d known he was going to get her. If he has time, maybe, he’ll make it, but he’ll tack the sketch to her wall anyway, so she knows he’d wanted it to be the first of all the things he’s going to build for her.

He sets the sketch aside and on the next piece of paper he finds himself drawing a dreamcatcher. When he’s done, he finds some tape and sticks the picture of the crib to one end of the cheep pink crib he’d picked up from Target on Day 1, and at the other end he sticks the picture of the dreamcatcher.

He’ll replace them with real things, one day. Handmade, unique and elegant. Just for Hannah.


End file.
